Blonde at the End of the Blue
by sxglow
Summary: Sayuri chose this job because of the connections it offers but who is she connecting with if all she's doing is babysitting and watching cameras? She is only half-blood, which is why she wasn't there when everyone was razed, and why she can operate undetected. She looks nothing like a Kurta - until angered. The auction is in one month, and counting. KurapikaxOC
1. Blowing Bubbles

My speciality is security technology. I'm sure that was what clinched my job at the Nostrades. My Nen isn't particularly strong or impressive and my physical stature weak but speedy. Which is probably why I ended up babysitting Neon Nostrade instead of doing actual guarding work.

Reason why I hate shopping: Neon Nostrade

"Yuri," she whines, "I wanna go shopping, come with me." Her body is draped horizontally across her bed, mentally exhausted from half an hour of studying and in desperate need of retail therapy.

"Sure thing, kid." I reply, struggling to not roll my eyes. The late morning sunlight practically sets my hair on fire as it beams into the room, contrasting sharply with the coolness of the room and my body.

I race down the stairs behind Neon as she darts to the door, her energy mysteriously restored. The area directly behind the front door is cool and calm, the tiles clear and the door handle cold. The area immediately outside the door is hot and heavy, the stone floor heating the soles of my feet. I automatically open up the frilly parasol Neon demands and walk her to the glossy limo. She cares about her complexion way too much for a fourteen year old. It's a five metre walk, always has been and probably won't change.

The creamy leather seats cool to the touch but Neon's youthful blood at a boil. She can barely remain seated and her chatter fills the car for the entire ride, Senritsu humouring her. I faced the window and let my eyes glaze over. This job was only categorised under guarding because the kid is rich. It's kind of like rent-a-buddy while the 'buddy' protects you. There's only a four year age difference but sometimes if feels like eight. Or eleven.

Inside the beautiful air-conditioning wafted over me and the scent of pretzels call out but alas, we're here for clothes, again. At least clothes shops smell nice – some kind of expensive air freshener, maybe. Technically it's supposed to make you feel at ease so there's a higher chance of you buying something, but I'm slightly broke.

"Ooh, Yuri-chan! Try this one!" Neon cries, eyes sparkling. The monstrosity she holds up is more underwear than top. I wince.

"No."

"You're boring." She says. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. What is that top meant to _cover_? A few minutes later, Neon had collected an armload of fine, filmy fabrics.

"Yuri-chan, you have such a nice body, why do you always wear those awful boy clothes?" Neon asks, accusingly. Well, my clothes aren't fancy but they suited the job _description_ as a _bodyguard_. And they're actually quite nice, fitted and soft. Why must she insist on dressing like a hooker?

"They're practical." I shrug.

Neon lets the clothes slide off her arm to land in a heap on the floor. I feel for the clothes. She marches up to me with fierce eyes, hands outstretched. They were darting towards… oh, boy. My chest. A muscle goes off in my cheek. "Mistress, what are you doing?" I ask, as calmly as I can. In response, she squeezes them, as if checking their quality. We're in freaking public and those are mine you are holding! I cussed.

"You have these great boobs, you gotta flaunt what you got, girl!" Neon screams in my face. What's with her sudden obsession with boobs? Did she suddenly realise she didn't have any?

"Neon, get your hands off me before I bodily remove you!" I roared.

"No," she screams, "stop wearing those boring suits!"

"They . . . suit my personality!" I have this amazing talent of making awful puns, whether it is at an appropriate time or place, which is probably one of the reasons why this other guard, Kurapika, finds so infuriating about me.

"You're so lucky to have boobs!"

"You're like, twelve!" I scream. I wrench her hands off me and stalk into the heart of the store. Does she have no sense of decency? Gosh, this seriously was not what I was expecting. Not at all. Jeez. I plonk my butt down on a bench in the shoe section and cross my arms tightly over my chest, scowling. A few minutes later, Senritsu padded up to me, smiling softly.

"Hang in there, Sayuri." She says, supportively. I look up at her through a curtain of cropped bangs and sighed.

"Yep, thanks."

* * *

After a while, the crazy girl calls out to me. "Yuri, we need your bubbles now!" Neon says. With a stony face, I hold up my index finger to my lips and gently blow. A glossy, transparent bubble forms at my fingertip and expands with my breath. Once the bubble is big enough, I stop blowing and let it float. A huge transparent ball sits in the air, several inches from my hand. Neon cheers and immediately shoves her plastic shopping bags into the side of the bubble. The glossy side bends in resistance before giving way. Now I have a giant bubble hovering over my hand, filled with Neon's shopping. This isn't what my Nen is supposed to be used for at all. I let my eyes close as I trailed in her energetic wake. If only she put this much effort into studying.

* * *

Three hours, five stores and eight bubbles later, we are finally finished. At this point, we are getting quite a lot of stares as the bubbles of shopping themselves took up more room than Neon's dancing figure did. Shopping. This is a waste of my talent.

Neon Nostrade is much more subdued during the ride back, tired out from a hard day's shopping, no doubt. I let my head rest on the glass as I stare blankly the windows. The bubbles bob at the roof of the car as I have withdrawn pretty much all of my control, only using energy to maintain their shape and strength.

This isn't getting me anywhere. I chose this job because of the connections it offers but what am I connecting with if all I'm doing is babysitting and watching cameras? It's been two months already, I'm going to have to step up my game to impress Light Nostrade. There's a huge auction in one month, the hype beginning on September 1st and I intend to be there. Those I'm tracking should be there in plenty.


	2. This was NOT in the Job Description

The limo rolls into the driveway of the Nostrade manor, crunching gravel softly. I let myself out and direct the bubbles towards the door with a flick of my wrist. I leave them bouncing off the door and walk around the war to shield Neon with the parasol. It's two in the afternoon and the heat is at risk of combusting should a hot guy walk into the sun.

I direct one of the bubbles to hit the doorbell. Seconds later, a maid answers the door and is almost bowled over by the sheer amount of shopping. I close the parasol and hand it to the maid with a subdued 'sorry'. She smiles.

Senritsu and I wearily follow Neon up two flights of stairs. We run into a certain blonde on the second landing with a stack of folders in his arms, his face impassive. Kurapika raises one eyebrow upon seeing my bubbles filled with shopping bags. I duck my head, flushing red. This really isn't the extent of my ability, I swear. He already thinks me incapable and using my Nen for such trivial things really isn't helping.

I nod slightly by way of acknowledging him and rush to follow Neon Nostrade, who had breezed past with only her bed in mind. Behind the safety of Neon's door, I increase the weight of the bubbles with a downward flutter of my hand and let them burst upon contact with the lush carpet. Neon was already sprawled across her bed so I collapse into an armchair in the corner of her room. Maintaining those bubbles was no easy task. Senritsu catches my eye and smiles as she lowers herself into the other chair.

A few minutes later, soft, even snores can be heard from Neon's sprawled figure. "Finally." I mumble. I glance at my watch. I'm supposed to report to the control room at 6pm. "Oh gosh, I still have three hours of this!"

Melody glanced at me. "Why don't you take a nap, I'll wake you up when things change." I nod sleepily and pull my legs up to curl on the armchair. Her soft voice penetrated my dream-heavy thoughts a few moments later.

"Sayuri, Kurapika does not think as badly of you as you think he does."

"Yeah, right." I mumble.

"Things will change," she says, mysteriously.

* * *

I pull down the blinds and change into a tank top and a pair of sleeping shorts. What an unproductive day. I spent half of it shopping, for god's sake. The control room was fun, though. Andrew always has a way to make things less serious.

"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with…F." He said.

"Hmm," I replied, scanning the cameras, "Fat lady flirting with Nostrade."

"Close enough." Andrew laughed. He's three years my senior and totally tech savvy. He's also one of the only reasons, besides the pay check, that I'm still here.

At least the day is over, tomorrow is a fresh start. Though I'm probably going to be doing similar, if not identical, things, it feels good to have a reset button.

I check all the bubbles that make up my bracelet were fully functional before slipping between the sheets. Each glassy bubble is connected to a set of cameras around the estate. On my first day, I had logged everyone's Nen signatures into a database, there is only so much you can hide with Zetsu. Once a new signature appears in front of a set of lens, the corresponding bubble bead will vibrate.

I'm an emitter – I emit aura in the form of bubbles. It's kind of cute. I got the idea from those bubble solutions we had as kids. I'd tried to bend the circular tip of the wand to make square bubbles once. Didn't work, the bubbles just came out a fat, wobbly shape.

I burrow deeper into the sheets and nuzzle into the pillow. Soft, toasty, delicious heaven. Before I got a job, I used to wish I could make myself tired again with a snap of my fingers just so I could sleep more – I get headaches if I sleep too much. That just shows how there's always bad in good.

Someone knocks on my door. "Miss Sayuri, Mr Nostrade wishes to see you." A maid says. I lie still for a few seconds, savouring the toasty warmth of my bed before reluctantly sitting up.

"Could you give me five minutes, please?" I ask, running a hand through my hair.

"Yes, Miss Sayuri." The maid answers. I survey myself in the mirror. Pink tank top, grey shorts, good enough for Light Nostrade seeing as I was already _in_ bed. I slip on a pair of flats and pad up to the second floor, tying my long hair into a ponytail as I go.

The ground floor contains the dining room, kitchens, a lot of reception and the servants' and guards' quarters. Located on the second floor is Light Nostrade's quarters and his office. Plus another dining room and a large library. The third floor is dedicated to Neon and her clothes. Her maids also reside on the third floor because tending to the young boss is a 24/7 job.

I tap lightly on the grand oak door. "Come in." Nostrade's voice booms. I opened the door and slide into the room. My boss is at his desk as usual, leaning forward on his elbows. In front of him was… Kurapika. Greeaat. I step forward reluctantly.

Light Nostrade gets straight to business: "I have an assignment for you two." He slides two folders across his desk to us. "In here are the details. The reception is three days from now. I need you two to make contact with an associate of mine to receive something. Dress appropriate, this is no casual event." He strokes one side of his moustache.

We take the folders without making eye contact. An 'assignment', huh. I'll be working in close quarters with a man that clearly thinks I'm beneath him.

"Yes, Mr Nostrade."

I exit the room behind Kurapika. Shaking my hair out as I walk back to my room, I replay the extremely brisk meeting in my mind. I'm sure my image was good; my back was straight, my hair was up, and apart from my casual clothes I think I was fairly professional. I was in _bed_ , for gods' sake. Still, Kurapika was still in his work clothes. I followed him out the door.

We arrived at the Nostrade manor at the same time, through the same trial, but somehow he always seems better, more professional. I hate this.

* * *

He wants us to _what_? 'You are a couple, please play the part.' We can barely speak to each other and he wants us to pose as boyfriend and girlfriend? Why? As if a woman cannot be in the company of a man at a gala without being engaged! Okay, fine. It makes sense for a couple to attend such an event. Couldn't it have been Basho? Basho is nice, and laughs at my jokes.

The assignment seems simple enough. Save for being the pretty boy's arm candy. Torreno is rich and so is his private art gallery. I'm going to need a really nice dress. And shoes. This was not in the job description.

"Hey, hey, Yuri, how about this one?" Neon calls across the shop. She holds up a dark green sheath dress with a neckline plunging to China.

"Nuh-uh." I shake my head and continue rifling through the racks.

"Then what about this?" She calls after a moment. "It's a big party, right? This should work." A tiny number covered in gold sequins. I have a feeling she's thinking of a different kind of party.

"God. No."

I lower my voice. "Should I tell her?"

Melody shakes her head. "If she knows she'll demand to come along." Oh, man. Kurapika and Neon? Nightmare.

"Something that makes me look less like a hooker." I call to Neon. "Ooh, this is cute." A blue dress with a glittery bodice. Hmm. "Nope. Too long, can't run."

"What about this one?" Melody asks. She holds up a strapless number with an empire waist. I consider it for a moment, fingering the smooth fabric.

"I think straps would be useful. On the off chance I have to run."

"You're too picky!" Neon hollers across the store.

"Pipe down, lady." I yell back.

It continued like this for the duration of four shops, with Neon suggesting racy dresses, Melody helping, and me shooting down them all. Skirt too narrow, can't run. Neckline too high, too formal. Fabric too stiff. Price too expensive…Finally I decide on a little black dress Melody picked out. It has a halter neckline, a gathered waistline and gloves. I hope I don't destroy it. It's the classy sort of dress that works for many occasions.

"Daddy says that girls should not wear black until she's twenty one." Neon pipes up. I raise my eyebrows. Daddy has his priorities wrong.

Over the next couple of hours of shopping with Neon, we secure a pair of black heels that don't hurt and a sparkly clutch. Considering the fact that I wore the same shoes to all my formal college dinners, this is quite the jump.

"What are you going to do about your hair?" Melody inquires.

I frown. I hadn't thought of that. "There's probably a tutorial online somewhere."

"I could help you with that, if you want." Melody smiles up at me. I direct the bubbles into another store pumping pop music. I consider her offer for a moment.

"It's okay, you've helped me plenty already. Besides, if I stay in this job I have a feeling I'm going to have to get used to doing this." I say slowly. " _So_ was not in the job description."

"Hang in there, Sayuri." She laughs.

* * *

Several DIY hair videos and a pack of bobby pins later, I finally have my hair up in something of an 'easy twist updo'. They lied. It was very difficult. But very pretty.

It's only a simple drop-and-receive but I feel strangely nervous. My stomach is churning in a way that makes me want to curl up in a foetal position. My mouth is dry and I feel the need to dry hurl. Taking another gulp of water, I fan my face with my other hand. Calm down, Sayuri. It's just a job.

I am leaning into the mirror to line my eyes when there comes a knock on the door. "Two minutes!" I call out. I do a quick scan of myself. Just one more thing. Digging in my socks drawer, I retrieve a tiny voice recorder and tuck it into my bra. Whatever happens, it's always good to have evidence. I learned that the hard way when my roommate accused me of hitting on her boyfriend.

I take a deep breath and open the door.


End file.
